My Best Friend's Funeral
by DarkShade
Summary: The first Dumb & Dumber fic on this site! Told from Lloyd's POV, reflecting on the past.


My Best Friend's Funeral  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I mean, I own things, but nothing having to do with this movie. Yeah.  
  
WARNING: This story contains some disturbing material, so if you don't like stories where people die, I wouldn't suggest reading this. (I sound like Lemony Snicket!)  
  
I watch the small gathering of people from a distance. Standing under a tree, I scan the crowd for someone familiar. A few I recognize; most are just distant relatives.  
It's pathetic, really. Most of these people didn't even know him. Not like I did.  
I catch sight of Mary. She's standing off to the right, looking mournful. I feel a twinge of pain at seeing her in this state, but at the same time I feel a burning anger in my heart. She always thought she was too good for me. . .  
Wait. That can't possibly be who I think it is. A sick feeling washes over me as I look closer. Yes. As I move nearer to the gathering, I have a clear view of Freda Felcher, dabbing nonexistent tears from her eyes with a lace tissue. So, the little slut actually got up the nerve to come.  
Then the hatred I'm feeling toward her turs to something else. Shame. If I had known at the time they were dating. . .  
I snap out of my self loathing as the assembly begins to clear out. As Mary passes, she smiles sadly and stops.  
"I know how hard this must be on you, Lloyd. If there's anything at all I can do. . ."  
I shake my head. "There's nothing. Anyway, what's done is done. You can't change the past."  
She nods and walks away without another word. I feel the anger rising in me again. How could she possibly know how hard this is on me? She doesn't have the slightest idea of what I've been through.  
Making sure the rest of the party has left, I walk slowly toward the tombstone, marking the final resting place of my best friend in the world. My God, we had been through just about everything together. I just figured that was the way it would always be.  
I felt livid. . . this time at myself. I mean, he always seemed cheerful enough. But I know there was something I could have done. . . Something that could have saved him.  
If only I had known, recognized the early signs, I could have done something to help. But I just let it go, never thinking once that Harry, the person I cared about more than anyone else, was suffering from severe Depression.  
And by the time I finally noticed that something was wrong, it was already too late. No form of medicine, not even the most skilled psychotherapists, could do anything to help.  
And so it began. I was left to watch my friend gradually die. He refused to eat anything, leave the house, then came the point where he wouldn't even get out of bed.  
One day I left. I needed to get out for a while. Besides, I'd only be gone for fifteen minutes. Nothing traumatizing was gonna happen.  
How fucking wrong I was.  
The first thing I noticed when I got home was the quiet. It was unnatural, usually I could at least hear shallow breathing and the occasional cough from the bedroom. But not now. Now it was different, as if a blanket of dead silence had settled itself over the house.  
I felt my throat tighten with fear as I instantly thought the worst. Taking I deep breath, I moved down the hall, stopping at the second door on the right. I hesitated before going in, breathing deep and trying in vain to stay calm. But nothing could prepare me for the horrors I was to witness that day.  
I don't think I'll ever forget it. How can I? The sight I witnessed upon entering that room will probably haunt me for the rest of my life.  
The first thing I noticed was something lying on the floor. As I got closer, that it wasn't a something, but a someone. Harry. I rushed over, and my worst fear was instantly confirmed.  
The rug upon which he lay was stained red, and there were deep gashes in both of his wrists. His fluffy blond hair was streaked with blood, and his once radiant blue eyes had faded to a dull gray and taken on a vacant, glassy look. A knife lay about three feet away.  
  
Which brings me to where I am now. Alone.  
Feeling hot tears well up behind my eyes, I turn away, facing the world for the first time without a friend. 


End file.
